I don't know what to do with myself.
Detective Trevor has other matters to take care of, and we both gave up on the idea of a hospital. Whatever is happening can't be fixed by doctors. He tells me to stay home and try to get some sleep, but I can't. So I find myself pacing the living room, obsessively staring at the corners of the ceiling, waiting for the shadows to show up again.
They don't. The house is cold and empty.
For a moment, I wonder where Steve is. I can't call and ask because I left my phone at the police station. I should go get it, but I can't be there again, not so soon.
It's only two in the afternoon. I can't believe it's only been five hours. It feels like a lifetime.
I can't keep obsessing over this. I'll go insane if I do.
There's nothing you can do about it, Eva. I just need to let detective Trevor do his job and figure it out.
I am nothing in this investigation. Just a victim. Not even a suspect. I haven't done anything wrong. All I can do is wait.
The nervous energy inside me needs an outlet so I decide that the best way to proceed is to go about my day as if I didn't wake up with my car covered in blood. I will take Steve's car and go to work.
Doing my best to keep my mind as empty as possible, I get out of the house, into the car, and drive downtown. The radio is keeping me company, blasting Steve's preppy old-school music. I allow myself a small chuckle. He's such a cliché. The young and handsome University professor draped in tweed and listening to evergreen music. I know a lot of his students have crushes on him.
As I park the car in my allotted space, I wonder again if he could be having an affair. But I don't believe it. Steve is faithful, and even if we've been rocky for the past few months as I struggled with my workload, he's too comfortable to pursue anyone new.
The elevator dings and I enter the open space of my firm on the twelfth floor. There is a low murmur as I step between the cubicles. I say hello, but only receive muttered replies. This is odd and slightly offensive. For all they know, I could have spent all morning with a potential new client. This isn't the first time I'm not in at 9 a.m. on the dot.
By the time I reach my office, I'm a little pissed. I sit at my desk, turn on my laptop, and watch everything loading, including the thirty or so e-mails waiting for me. I fight back a groan. Maybe I should take my laptop home and deal with this there. I'm not in the right mind to stay here. Not when everything is annoying me.
"Well, well, look who decided to finally show up."
I visibly cringe at the voice. Anika is in the doorway, her shoulder against the jamb, arms crossed over her chest. She's wearing a red blazer dress cinched with a wide black belt, her frizzy hair pined at the sides as usual, the rest of it flowing down her back. I like the outfit, but it does nothing for her pinched face.
"I've had issues this morning," I say, indicating that she should come in and take a seat.
She doesn't. She stays in the doorway. "Oh, issues you say." Her voice is much louder than it needs to be.
"Yes, issues. Please come in and I'll tell you all about it."
"I don't care to hear 'all about it", Eva! You can't just disappear off the face of the Earth for hours and then just come waltzing in as if nothing happened! I called you a million times! Sent you a million e-mails."
She's yelling. She's definitely yelling when she doesn't have to. I grit my teeth together. She definitely didn't send me a million e-mail. I only have two from her out of which the subject line for one is ??????? and that's probably when she asked where I was. But I received that one about two hours ago.
"I don't have my phone."
"I don't care! That's not my problem! I don't know what's wrong with you, but you just keep fucking up. You're a lawyer! You can't be this irresponsible!"
"Will you stop yelling and come in?"
"I will not stop yelling and come in! You don't get to tell me what to do!"
I take in a deep breath, trying not to fly out the handle. I thought I was over what happened yesterday, that I could just focus on work and ignore the office drama. Anika won't let me.
"When did you come in?" I ask.
She falters for a second, then I can actually see her swelling with indignation. "How dare you question me? After your fuck up last night, when I had to be here past midnight to try and correct your mistake... You have some nerve!"
I'm sure she didn't stay here to correct shit. There's no proof in that regard since all e-mail have to have the entire team copied.
"You know, if you're so unhappy with me, just fire me!" I pick up my purse, close the lid of my laptop and walk towards the door.
She doesn't get out of the way. She's a head shorter than me, even on four inch stiletto heels. And yet, she glares as if she could take me down. I know her problem. She can't fire me. She has to take it up with the equity partners and they won't. We're understaffed as it is, and no matter how loudly she complains, I'm a good lawyer.
"Get out of my way, Anika," I say between my teeth.
"I'm taking this up to the partners," she says back, for the first time keeping her voice low so that only I can hear her. "You can't just do whatever the hell you want."
"Neither can you. I've had it with your rotten attitude. And you can tell the partners that." I pus past her and back towards the elevator, trying my best to keep the anger in.
The neon lights seem to flicker as I pass, but I don't care enough to stop. Let the shadows come and smother them all. I wish they'd throw that ridiculous crystal duck paper weight straight at Anika's smug face.
Let the partners complain. I dare them to fire me.
I continue to seethe on the elevator ride, and halfway through the way through the underground parking lot when I suddenly stop.
What's wrong with me? I've been through hell this morning and yet I let Anika get to me? She's just an arrogant woman who constantly tries to prove that she's better than everyone else. She's most likely horribly insecure. It must be miserable to be her.
The lights flicker again, but I close my eyes and ignore them, willing calm on myself. Heels click somewhere in the parking lot, but I don't open my eyes. I don't want to talk to anyone. I just want to breathe and be me for a few moments.
It works. I calm down and the angers flushes out of me. There's no reason to be upset. I actually feel pity for Anika now. Poor frustrated woman. Alone, with only this job to keep her warm.
I get behind the wheel and drive off, heading directly home. I know I should go get my phone, but after the mess I've left behind there, I don't want them to be able to contact me. I need to disappear.
👥
Steve is home when I get there in the early hours of the evening, once again on his PlayStation. I linger in the doorway, sadness flooding me.
How did we get this was? We were so in love when we got married. So happy. But then... Life just happened. There's still love there, I'm sure there is. It was just buried under the constant pressure of adulthood. No wonder he needs to play video games to relax.
A part of me wants to talk to him, ask him what else happened at the station after I left. But it's easier not to. It's easier to stare at the back of his head, watch his fingers move deftly over the controler and just... Let him be.
Just like I took the time to drive around aimlessly to settle my nerves.
I take off my shoes not to make any noise and head up the stairs. Even if it's barely six in the afternoon now, I'm more than ready to turn in. As I go, I check out the corners of the rooms. There are no shadows, no chill, nothing odd or out of place. When I finally stumble into bed, for a moment, I can believe that I imagined that weird and horrible morning.
It unfortunately becomes very clear that I didn't once I'm awakened by someone screaming my name desperately.
I try to blink sleep from my eyes. My pulse is already jumping around, throwing me off loop. It takes me a few seconds to realize that it's Steve calling me. Not only that, but he's shaking my shoulder.
"What? What happened?" I ask.
I can finally focus on his eyes. They're filled with terror. His nervous state only amplifies mine, and I find myself shaking.
"How long have you been here?" he asks.
I glance out the window. It's morning already. "Since around six p.m. last night. Steve." I clench his arm and I'm glad he doesn't pull away. "What's going on?"
"Detective Trevor is downstairs and wants to talk to you. There's been another... incident."
The blood freezes in my veins, but I'm aware I can't go down disheveled and in my pajamas. I take in a deep breath and close my eyes for a second, then nod.
"Tell him I'll be right down."
I quickly comb my hair, brush my teeth, and throw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt before I head down the stairs. The detective is right there, and his blue eyes focus on me. Warmth creeps up my cheeks and I'm not sure why. Maybe because I forgot how handsome he is. He's out of his suit today, also wearing jeans and a t-shirt. The shadow of a stubble covers his jaw and he doesn't seem to have gotten much sleep last night.
"Hello, Eva," he says.
Steve throws him a confused look.
"Hello. What happened?"
"I was talking to your husband and he says you came home at around six last night?" The sentence ends in a question and I can guess he's trying to confirm.
"Yes. I got in at around six. Steve was home, playing vide games, and I went straight to bed. What's going on?" And why won't anyone answer when I ask them what happened?
"I'll need you to come with me. There's been another..." Detective Trevor hesitates.
"You can say it," Steve says, sounding bitter now. "Another murder."
"We're not sure the first incident was a murder since there's no body," the detective says.
My hearing becomes fuzzy as the two men discuss the possibility that the blood on my car was not the aftermath of murder. I can barely hear them as the pulse drums inside me, bringing bile to my mouth.
"What does that have to do with me?" I ask. I was right here! I didn't go anywhere!
"Well, it's someone you know," the detective finally says. "And according to witnesses, you're one of the last people who saw her alive."
"But I didn't see anyone special yesterday, I didn't..." My words catch in my throat as I realize who it might be. "I left work at around three. I couldn't be the last person."
"What? You know who he's talking about?" Steve asked, shocked.
"Well, you were. And I'm going to assume that you already guessed I'm talking about Anika Bower."
"Anika is dead?" Steve shrieks.
I clench my fists and bring them to my chest. Anika is dead. And I can't believe that I'm happy about it.
👥
Chapter WC: 1,987
Total WC: 12,710
Here we go! I decided to focus and finish this story so I will most probably update more over the following weeks.
Oh, no. Anika is dead! I bet everyone feels so sorry about that. She was such a lovely person. But this makes Eva look hella suspicious. How will she get out of this one? And why does weird shit keep happening while the poor woman is trying to sleep?
Hope that you're enjoying the story and are looking forward to more.